Costumes
by Rosie Denn
Summary: I know why I wear this costume, but what am I really trying to hide? A Halloween fic.


_Originally written as part of the **2012 South Park Secret Santa**. All the other stories and artwork can be viewed here_: secretsanta . livejournal . com

_I went out of my comfort zone a bit on this one, intentionally challenging myself._

_Hope you enjoy~!_

* * *

It happened on Halloween.

Wait, I take that back, it actually happened after Halloween, but it started then. Like, really started, not just me being stupid off in a corner. Nope. Halloween was the day that the shit hit the fan.

Being juniors in high school, my friends and I were well past the age of trick-or-treating. Nowadays, we would usually spend the holiday watching scary or comedic-with-horror-elements movies at one of our houses. That is, Stan's, Cartman's, or mine. But this year was a departure from the usual. This year I'd be going over to Kenny's, and it would just be the two of us. Stan was hanging out with his latest love interest (little more than a passing crush if you asked me, but that was just my opinion), and Cartman was off hatching some stupid plan, with Butters in tow, trying to stop the vampire kids (who were, yes, still around) from enacting some phony ritual of theirs.

Still, being at Kenny's house wasn't so bad. No one ever knocked on their door, since the neighborhood kids knew there was no candy to be had, and, if they did actually dare to try their luck, they'd most likely get a half-full beer can thrown at their head. So, we knew that our movies wouldn't have to compete with the doorbell interrupting the onscreen horror every five minutes. That was a definite plus.

That night, I got to Kenny's house just before six o'clock, just before it started to get dark. I'd seen a few younger kids out already with their parents and their glow-in-the-dark jackets and flashlights (you know, the parents who take the holiday's safety precautions a little too seriously), but I knew the majority of kids would be waiting until the sun vanished from the horizon before venturing out on their quest for sweets.

As I locked my car, I saw a five-year-old dressed as a zombie pull at the leash held by a parent in a day-glo vest, and I couldn't help but question this particular person's paternal choices as I headed inside the house.

I never knocked on Kenny's door; there was no point. The few times any of our immediate group of friends had hung out there had been when his parents had been working or at a bar or whatever it was they did when they went out. We actually hung out there more now than when we were younger since the lack of adult supervision had admittedly been convenient on occasion. Also, his door was never locked… because the lock had been broken for five years. Kenny said he would have been worried if there had actually been anything in the house worth stealing.

Things being as they were, I turned the handle, the door creaking on its rusted hinges as I walked in, and closed it behind me with the extra necessary force to get it back within the frame (which also needed fixing).

I didn't even announce my presence; I just walked right through the back hallway to Kenny's room. I thought I heard some small noises from the room on the other side of the hall, which I knew to be Kenny's little sister's room. I guess she was too old to trick-or-treat, too. I wasn't concerned though, since she was a pretty quiet girl for having grown up in such a loud family, and would most definitely keep to her room.

I did retain some form of manners, though, when I knocked on Kenny's door a couple of times and waited a minute. This habit was necessary, since I had once accidentally caught Kenny in the middle of a rather private act, even though he _knew_ I was coming over and probably should have considered his time management a bit better. So, since then, for sure, whenever I came over, I gave him a couple of minutes to compose himself or whatever he had to do before I actually opened the door.

This time I hadn't needed to be so cautious (but still, it never hurt), as I found Kenny sitting at his desk reading a magazine when I finally entered, and not the dirty kind. (I spied a racing car in a photograph on one of the pages, so I guessed it was a NASCAR publication.) "Hey, Kyle," he acknowledged me without looking up from the page.

"Hi," I returned, and shut the door behind me. I walked over to Kenny's bed and sat down while I let him finish reading his article. I slung the satchel off my shoulder, the one I usually used for school books, but tonight held something much more entertaining, and settled in.

"So, what'd you bring?" Kenny asked after just a couple of minutes.

I picked up the pile of DVDs I'd pulled out of my bag and held them in a stack for Kenny to see clearly. Then, I introduced each one as I slipped it to the front of the stack, "_The Ring_, _The Bride of Frankenstein_, _Shaun of the Dead_, and _Terrance and Phillip Meet the Canadian Wolfman_."

"Nice," Kenny complemented my choices. "And I've got _Poltergeist_ and _The Ghostbusters_ so that's a pretty good range of options."

"Totally," I agreed.

We spent the next few hours doing exactly what we'd planned on doing: watching movies and snacking on the chips I'd also brought over and the sodas Kenny provided. It was pretty great. It was actually a nice change from the norm, since Kenny and I could just watch movies without having to comment on them like our other two friends felt the need to: Stan would periodically find something to complain about, in the cinematography or the dialogue, and Cartman would call a character stupid or 'a dumb bitch' every five seconds if he was bored. Kenny could actually be quiet and just watch the damn movie, like I tended to do, so it was a much more enjoyable experience.

After the first two films, we took a short break before starting the next one. Kenny got up to use the bathroom, so I sat on his floor, absentmindedly looking around the room while I waited for him to return.

My mind wandered to where Stan was that night. I wasn't jealous, I really wasn't. It just seemed stupid to me for him to commit to plans with someone who was, at best, a passing fancy, instead of keep to the tradition we, his lifelong friends, had always stuck by. It was a matter of principle mostly.

I had gone through a few relationships of my own, of course. There were several girls, actually, and a couple boys (I came out as bi back in middle school so it's not even a thing for me anymore). Main among the boys… was Stan. My best friend since we were toddlers, Stan and I had a relationship all ninth grade year. But then, things got weird, he had a minor breakdown, and, though we got through it in one piece and remained the tightest of friends, things just couldn't be the same. So, they went back to how they'd been. Sure, now we were a bit more comfortable around each other physically, and we acknowledged that we had shared something real and special, but we had to move on. He just moved on to other things a lot sooner than I did.

When Kenny returned, he brought with him a bag full of candy, one of those variety packs that had about five different kinds.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked.

"The drug store," Kenny replied as he tossed the bag to me, which I caught with both hands. "It's sugar-free, so it was half-off today."

I looked down at the bag, and noticed that it was indeed full of sugarless treats. I would have asked why on Earth Kenny had deprived himself of 'authentic' candy, but he knew I was diabetic, so I assumed he had gotten it mainly for my sake, which was really nice, since Stan was about the only other person who ever seemed to remember that I had that condition. "Thanks, man," I told Kenny.

"Hey, you're still sharing," he said as he reclaimed his seat on the floor next to me, and I laughed at his mock-serious tone. I opened the bag and handed Kenny a plain chocolate bar, before selecting a Snickers-like piece for myself. I plopped the whole bag in between us for easy accessibility for all.

We ate a few candies apiece in silence. I was about to ask which movie we wanted to watch next (my vote was for _Terrance and Phillip Meet the Canadian Wolfman _since I hadn't seen it since I was fourteen), but Kenny spoke first. "Hey, I want that one." He pointed to the peanut butter cup I had already unwrapped in my hand.

"Dude, there's like fifteen still in there," I replied.

"Yeah, but they're all at the bottom. I want that one!"

"Ooookay." If Kenny wanted to act like a stubborn five-year old, whatever, that was his decision. At least he was cute about it instead of just plain annoying like Cartman. I placed the candy in his outstretched palm, and made to grab another selection from the bag.

"_Hur, have tis one_," Kenny spoke around the peanut butter cup now in his mouth. He offered me a rope of red licorice he'd been holding, out of its packaging.

"Sure," I agreed, purely out of indulgence at this point. Red licorice was one of my favorites, which I hardly ever got to have since my mom would never buy it. I reached out my hand to take it from Kenny, but he just held it up, kind of like an owner dangling a treat in front of his dog's nose. I snorted a little, but continued to play his game, tilting my head back and opening my mouth, awaiting the candy. Kenny obliged by lowering it down into my mouth. I bit the end and began to chew, while Kenny kept ahold of the opposite end. About halfway through the rope, he lowered it down so that I could adjust my head back to facing forward, though I continued to munch while he held it.

I must have been really focused on eating that damn licorice, because, though I felt some shifting, I was not paying attention to what Kenny was arranging. So, it was a complete surprise when I got to Kenny's mouth wrapped around the other end.

I coughed and almost choked on the candy, then spit out what I hadn't already chewed. "Kenny, the fuck?!" I managed to sputter out.

Kenny just smiled sheepishly, a piece of the red rope still dangling between his teeth. He pulled it out and then said, as if it gave some kind of reasonable explanation, "Trick or treat?"

I stared at him incredulously. What kind of shit was he trying to pull? He was being so immature all of a sudden. Though Kenny did have his moments, he usually wasn't so juvenile about his behavior. I felt my cheeks start to heat up, embarrassed for him. No, wait… or was I embarrassed for myself having been caught in his prank? Shit, I didn't know. It just felt embarrassing.

I frowned and turned away. I must have looked fairly miserable, since Kenny's smile fell and he asked me with some decent concern in his voice, "Kyle, you okay?"

"That was really stupid of you, Kenny," I declared.

Kenny snorted. "Huh, what? I was only fooling around, man."

"Well, it wasn't very funny." I actually made to get up, going where I wasn't sure, but I suddenly felt like I had to after that.

"Kyle? Hey, seriously, dude, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." I stood up completely, still keen to move, and Kenny followed suit, genuine worry etched on his face now.

"Kyle, come on, it was just a joke. Why're you so…" I looked up once Kenny trailed off, and I saw something dawning on his face. He said abruptly, "You have a crush on me."

I coughed again (if this kept up I was going to have a fit or something). "Huh-uh-what? What!?" I said. "Kenny, no-no I don't. What the fuck, man?"

Kenny's mouth slowly broke out into just the widest, stupidest, most self-satisfied grin I had ever seen in my pathetic life. "Yes, you do. You totally have a crush on me!"

"Kenny, shut the fuck up," I said. I started to turn around and walk in the opposite direction, but then I felt myself being pulled backwards by a hand wrapped firmly around my arm, just above my elbow. "Kenny, ow, that hurts!"

"Kyle, shut up for a minute."

"That's just what I told you to-." My words were cut off by Kenny pressing the index finger of his other hand over my lips. This was ridiculous. I felt like a five-year-old being forced to confess something unpleasant… something untrue, untrue! Shit.

"Kyle, work with here, okay? I promise, I won't laugh at you. Now, tell me the truth, do you have a crush on me?"

I hated how I felt myself blush at hearing Kenny say those words again. I didn't, no, of course I didn't. But, I realized that the light force of Kenny's finger wasn't the main thing preventing me from uttering those words. I just kind of dumbly stared at him for a second or two (I couldn't be sure of time right then, since it had either slowed down to a crawl or was going way too fast in my head, I couldn't tell which). Did I? Well… maybe. I mean, Kenny was attractive and all, plenty of people knew that… _plenty._ But, did my attraction go beyond that? Oh fuck, I just thought 'attraction.' I was considering my _attraction _to Kenny McCormick, fuck my life.

I was having such a hard time deciding if I did or not, that all I decided was to consider the possibility. "Maybe," I finally muttered into his finger, still pressed against my mouth.

Everything was still for a moment. Then, Kenny lowered his finger and acknowledged my response. "Okay," he said. I assumed there would have been more of a moment right then, and it might have happened, but the boy across from me decided to make it awkward again by asking, "So, that's why you spazzed out on me when our lips almost touched?"

"I dunno, Kenny, maybe, if you want to think that. Just about everyone else has fallen to your charms. It was only a matter of time for me to join the pack, right?" Such was my fairly pathetic attempt at shrugging this whole affair off with sarcasm.

"Uh huh," Kenny vocalized, appearing not at all convinced. Damn him and his acting like he could see right through my obviously rambling, reaching for straws defense. Which I wasn't surprised about, but still, screw him.

Rather than continue to stand awkwardly, I sat down on Kenny's bed, where I could still reach the candy. Kenny returned to his previous spot on the floor (which was good; I didn't quite know what I would've done if he'd sat on the bed next to me).

It was quiet for a moment, then Kenny chuckled softly and said, "I forget how sensitive you are sometimes."

Face full of heat, I decided to turn the tables around. "Well, what about you then, Mr. Sexual-Inquirer?" I asked. Kenny had never really confessed where he fell on the Kinsey scale, at least not to me.

"Oooo, 'Sexual-Inquirer,' I like that," Kenny grinned. I narrowed my eyes at him, sending the signal that I did not find his joke amusing and to just answer the question please. Kenny seemed to pick up on this vibe, since he did continue, "Well, I certainly love boobs. I LOVE boobs," I closed my eyes and mentally smacked myself on the forehead, though I was pretty sure it was Kenny I wanted to be slapping _(… Not in that way!)_, "but, you know, I'm open, dude. I figure whatever, you know?"

I opened my eyes again and looked down at the back of his head, since he was facing out, toward the blank television. "So, does that mean you like guys, too?"

Kenny shrugged nonchalantly. "If it's coming at me with its mouth open and its pants down, I'll take it."

I groaned loudly, "Kennnnny, really?"

"Heh, sorry, man, couldn't resist. But honestly, Kyle," and here Kenny turned around so he was facing me and got up onto his knees so that we were a bit more on the same eyelevel, "I admit I've had an leaning or two the other way, so I do keep my options open. I'm not one to deny a profound physical or spiritual experience."

I swallowed. Kenny's face was creeping closer and closer to mine by the second and I didn't think I could handle it if it got much closer. "Even without boobs?" I tried to joke.

"I'd make an exception for you."

IIII hadn't expected Kenny to say that. And, all of a sudden, I wanted to get out of that room, fast. I was pretty sure it was getting warmer in there by the second anyway, in spite of the mid-forties temperature outside. "Umm, okay. Well, I think I should probably head back home now." I immediately pushed myself up off the bed. Kenny leaned back on his ankles to allow me room to stand. He then sat there watching me gather the DVDs I'd brought over, now slightly strewn across the floor, and stuff them into my satchel.

"Kyle," Kenny said, "it's not even eleven yet."

"I know, but tomorrow's a school day, so I really should start heading back."

"No, I mean… Kyle, come on, man. Look," Kenny stood up as well, and caught my wrists in his hands, stilling their motion. I raised my head and looked him right in the eye and immediately recognized Kenny's serious face; his eyes were softer and there was a little wrinkle on his forehead from his raised brow… not that I normally paid this much attention to his face or anything. We certainly were not usually this close for me to examine it in such detail. Anyway, regardless, this was the look Kenny always got when he dropped the sarcasm, when he was genuine. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push anything, all right?"

I blinked and then sighed. I maneuvered my hands so that I could hold Kenny's forearms and give them a little squeeze, for reassurance. "I know, dude. It's okay, I just… I'd feel better if I went home now. I'll see you tomorrow in school, yeah?"

"Yeah," Kenny agreed. "Yeah, okay." He didn't look entirely convinced of my words, so I quirked up the side of my mouth in a little smile, trying to prove my sincerity to him. It seemed to help, since Kenny returned my gesture with a smile of his own before releasing my hands. We said our goodbyes, and I left. The only thing that was out of the ordinary then was that Kenny walked me to the front door.

The whole ride home and the whole rest of the night, which I mainly spent lying in my bed unable to sleep, I kept thinking about what had apparently almost happened. I suppose it could be argued that Kenny and I had almost kissed. But why had I gotten so worked up about it? And why had I really, _really, _ not wanted to talk about it with Kenny? I was not a shy person; I pretty much always was up front with how I felt about something. Even in my relationships (not that I had a relationship with Kenny, not _that _kind) I had typically been the one to make the first move. Why was I being so evasive with Kenny? I ended up falling asleep late in the night still unsure of an answer.

The next day, I didn't see Kenny until lunch period, since we had no classes together. The funny thing was that there was no real mention of our conversation the night before. The only reference to it, if you could even call it a reference, took place when Kenny joined me at our usual lunch table.

I had been the first to arrive, and was alone drinking a limeade when Kenny plopped down into the seat next to me and greeted me with, "Sup, sexy?"

"Oh my god, Kenny, please no." I put my face in my hands.

"You know you like it, hotcakes." Kenny gave me a wink, the kind that is ridiculously overdone physically to be oh-so-not-at-all-subtle.

"Fuck you," I shot back.

"My place or yours?" I smacked him on the head with my English binder. Hard.

And that was it. Immediately after that, while Kenny was recovering from the bump I'd probably given him on his head (I had a really thick heavy-duty binder), Stan joined us at the table, followed closely by Cartman. Conversation turned to average things. Stan did ask us which movies the two of us had managed to watch, and I told him, but Kenny was involved in an argument over fries with Cartman, so if he heard Stan bring up last night, he was unable to contribute any other details.

The rest of the day past normally, almost to an insanely boring level. Then, later that night, just after I'd finished dinner with my family, my phone buzzed. I opened the new message on the screen to read: _Uniform 9pm._

Uniform? Really? 'Uniform' was code for our superhero outfits. Kenny meant he wanted me to suit up as the Human Kite and be ready to go by nine o'clock. But why? He hadn't mentioned anything big going down lately. Had there been some emergency?

When all of us were in fourth grade, we'd developed a game which quickly became serious business as we fought real dark forces in our town. We were superheroes, at least in our heads. Kenny, as Mysterion, had begun it. Well, on an actual fight for justice level, anyway. Cartman had been running around town as The Coon for a while before then, attempting to foil the plans of our other friend, Butters, who chose to don the attire of a mostly-bark-and-no-bite villain named Professor Chaos. I had been employed soon after Mysterion's appearance as his confidant. Later, the rest of us had developed superhero identities for ourselves. I was The Human Kite, since that's what I was able to draw inspiration from when I'd been searching for outfit materials in my garage.

Though the others had joined in on the game, and we'd had to fight villains who posed a real threat for a time, it was really only the original four of us who were still active by that point. The Coon and Professor Chaos kind of did their own thing, and we never had to be too concerned with the Professor's villainy posing too terrible a threat, though we did, of course, keep an eye on him. Other than that, Mysterion regularly patrolled the town for trouble, and he would call me in whenever he needed backup or had uncovered some plot or conspiracy that he needed help disassembling. So, I never went out much as Kite on my own, only when needed by Mysterion.

Said dark hero had been out the day before Halloween, known colloquially as 'Mischief Night,' and, of course, there had been plenty to keep him occupied then. But he hadn't requested any additional aid then. And the day after Halloween was usually when people were recovering from a lack of sleep after watching scary movies into the wee hours of the morning or they were catatonic in post-sugar-rush-induced stupors. I had no idea why he thought tonight would necessitate him needing serious back-up.

Still, I tended to avoid questioning him on these things, since he always had his reasons. So, I got ready. I pulled a box out from the side of my closet, which was under a crate full of a bunch of old books, ones I didn't read anymore but I knew my mom would never throw away because she never randomly confiscated old literature, just toys or clothes. The box I was really aiming for was behind the first (can never be too careful, right?). This was a sturdy wooden one, to make sure the stuff inside would be protected from water or moth damage and not be squished if something fell on it. It held my updated gear for The Human Kite. I say 'updated' mainly because it was bigger than the original outfit I'd made in fourth grade, able to fit me now. The materials had changed a bit, but, for the most part, it was the same outfit I'd been wearing off and on for seven years.

I locked my bedroom door before I opened the chest to get dressed. There was less need tonight, since I was the only one in the house, my parents out at a dinner party and Ike at one of his friend's houses, but it was a standard procedure. No one in my family knew about my vigilante habits.

I did not bother to close the curtains on my window. In fact, I raised the glass, as that was how I always left the house after suiting up. I did turn off my overhead light, though, so that I'd attract as little attention as possible. Then, I got dressed.

At 8:55pm, Mysterion appeared in my bedroom window.

I wasn't even ready yet. My cap, the one that would cover my mess-of-a-giveaway red hair, still lay on my desk. I'd only just finished tying my boots, rising from the desk chair when I had noticed his shadow on my carpet. I turned around and there he was, perching as he always did on my windowsill, his hood low over his eyes and his cape billowing slightly in the small breeze from outside. Mysterion was hardly ever early, instead always right on time. What was going on? He kept operating outside our standard procedure.

So, without any other preamble, I asked him. "Mysterion, what's the situation? Is something wrong?"

Mysterion replied, in his low, gruff voice, "I've gone through routine patrol and found absolutely no disturbances in town tonight."

I blinked, wondering, if there were no disturbances, then why had he sent me that message and was here now? After a pause, I vocalized my confusion, "Then why did you want me to suit up?"

In answer to that question, Mysterion attacked me.

It happened suddenly, and I was completely unprepared, so he succeeded in cornering me. Mysterion grabbed my arms with both his hands and brought them behind my back, securing them there by firmly holding my fingers in his right hand. At the same time, he used his body to push me forward, causing me to walk backward into my bedroom wall. There, he pinned me, keeping his body against me and reaching his left hand up to wrap in my hair, not painfully but forcefully, so that I was looking straight at him.

I almost couldn't believe my senses. "Kenny, what the hell?!" I demanded, dropping all alter-ego ruses.

I saw him study my face for a couple of seconds, but he retained his physical hold on me. Finally answering one of the many questions I had for him that night, he said, "I figured this might be better."

"For what?!"

"So we could have some fun," and I saw Kenny's smirk shine out from the interior of his hood.

That's when he kissed me.

It was steady at first, just him holding his lips against mine. But, when I didn't resist (mostly out of shock, I swear), he began to move with increasing force. This whole time, he kept me pinned against the wall.

I couldn't help myself. Despite the absurdity of the situation, I returned the kiss. It was a good kiss, after all. A great one. Kenny had been around the block a few times in terms of sexual exploration (I suddenly found myself wondering if I was the first guy he had kissed - I hoped so - though I wasn't sure why I was so concerned about that at the moment), so I wasn't terribly surprised that the action was enjoyable even considering my physical position.

Wait, my physical position was very much a sensual one. I had only been thinking of it in terms of fighting at first, mainly because we both had on our hero outfits, but once Mysterion's mouth moved to the side of my neck, I realized the other implications of his earlier strategic maneuvers.

Without my cap on, my head and neck were completely exposed, and Mysterion took full advantage of this, working his way across my jawline and then down and back up the side of my neck. I admit I was lost in the suddenness and, yes, the pleasure of it all at first. Then, I realized that the suddenness bothered me. I needed a more viable explanation.

"Kenny," I asked, "why are you doing this now? Why plan for this, or whatever?"

Mysterion pulled back and looked me directly in the eye. Through the mask, I could see his eyes shine with that genuine look of his again. "Cause I thought if _Kyle _was a bit nervous, then maybe _The Human Kite _would be more ready to spring into action."

I blinked. "Did you seriously just make a superhero-related dick joke?"

Mysterion smiled again. "Maybe," he said. "What are you going to do about it… Kite?"

He was egging me on, deliberately screwing with my alter-ego's penchant for righting an obvious wrong. Well, fine, if that's what he wanted, then that's what he would get. The first thing I had to set right was who was in control of this situation.

I tried to reverse our positions, so that I had Mysterion up against the wall, and was therefore the alpha role in this interaction, but he must have anticipated I'd make a move like that, because as soon as I pushed against his chest with my own, he used my own momentum against me, and swung both of us around so we did a 360, ending up in the same position as before, only this time about three feet down my wall.

He did lose his grip on my arms, though, in the process, so I tried to at least take advantage of my ability to take some initiative. I reached up and grabbed both sides of Mysterion's head and titled it to my left. Then, I was free to lean forward and begin my own ministrations to his skin. I mostly concentrated around his ear, thinking it would make him squirm a bit if it was ticklish, but I felt him relax a bit in my grasp, like he was melting. I guessed I had found one of his trigger spots.

As I continued to try and outdo him, I realized I was losing myself in the actions that were going on. I forgot that Mysterion… Kenny… had shocked me with all this. I forgot that I had nearly choked when confronted about my feelings earlier. I forgot that maybe we should have been taking things slower than this, if we actually were going through with anything. I forgot that I was nervous.

So, I just acted.

Mysterion had worked our lips back together, and I was thoroughly into it by that point. We were kissing, hard, tongues and saliva invading each other's senses of taste. I wasn't even coherent enough to try to define that taste, just that it was there, at that moment, and it was so very satisfying, addicting almost.

I realized then that it was grossly unfair that I was without my headgear, but Mysterion had copious amounts of it. I decided to fix this situation. I ran my hands up to the top of his head. Then, I grabbed a bunch of his hood fabric and pulled it down. Continuing, I reached around the front of his head to the black mask covering half of his face. I extended my thumbs so that they were across his cheeks, at the base of the mask. Then, I hooked my thumb under the mask and began lifting it slowly up his face, past his nose and his eyes. Finally, I grabbed a wad of it with my right hand and pulled the whole thing off, tossing it to the floor.

That's when I could finally see Kenny under the disguise. And, that simple fact, that, even though we were both still fully clothed in our hero outfits, it was Kenny and me, just us, just here, just now, that's when I found the courage to show him how I truly felt.

I kissed him again, this time no holds barred. We had increased the force of the action already, but now there was a different element. This time, for the first time since we'd started, I put feeling into it, an intense feeling. I tried to tell Kenny, through my actions, how much I valued him as a friend, how much I valued him as a confidant. He'd always come to me the few times when he'd been stuck on an important issue. He had trusted me, and that meant a lot. I was finally able to communicate accurately that I trusted him as well.

Kenny took it to the next step. Thus far, I'd mainly been concerned with his head region. But, very certainly, I felt his knee push up along the inside of my thigh, and the pressure seemed to roll up his leg, so that, by the time it reached his hips, they were pressing into mine.

I heard myself groan into his mouth, since they were still connected. My eyes slid shut as I gave him a hip-roll of my own, pushing away from the wall. I felt him smile slightly against my lips before he repeated the same action, this time with a bit more force behind it.

This reciprocal rolling motion continued and escalated for a while. Eventually, we were grinding into each other, hard and sure. Even with all of our clothes still on, I felt like I could distinguish every rise and fall of his body's topography, at least the ones in the front, since those were what I was pressed against. It was so liberating, riding this wave that had picked me up out of nowhere, but which was cresting very high indeed.

We didn't quite reach the pinnacle; the wave sloped down as we simultaneously slowed our momentum, returning gradually to our metaphoric sea level. But, damn, was it still amazing.

We kissed a couple more times, slow and lingering. Then, we had to breathe independently. I opened my eyes to find that Kenny had shut his at some point along the ride as well. I watched them open partially, so that they were still lidded in semi-euphoria. He smiled at me again as he ran his left hand across my ear and through my hair, playing with some of my curls. He leaned forward so that our foreheads were pressed together. Only then did I notice both of ours were slick with sweat.

"I knew Kite would get the job done," he said.

I sighed, but smiled as well. "I'm not just Kite, Kenny. That's only something I do sometimes."

"Yeah, but…" he trailed off and glanced away from me.

Encountering the first appearance of hesitation from the other side of this tête-à-tête, I had to hear the end of that thought. "But what?" I asked.

Kenny moved his gaze back to meet mine. He took in a breath and then admitted, "Kite means a lot to me."

I paused, attempting to discern his meaning. "Because he helps you out?"

"No, because… you're still there," Kenny said, altering the pronoun. "You're… the only one who's stuck by me through this whole superhero thing. And it means a lot to me."

"Huh," I said, realizing that this was true. "Yeah. I guess it's kind of 'our thing,' huh?"

Kenny's grin widened exponentially. "Yeah," he agreed, "it is." Then, he leaned forward across the small distance and kissed me again, lightly.

I returned it and smiled myself. Maybe this was the start of a different kind of relationship, one that didn't necessarily involve masks and a cape.

Well, maybe it could. On special occasions.


End file.
